Can You Save My Heavy Dirty Soul (For Me?)
by Agentsofsuperwholocked
Summary: She needed it. She needed it. She needed it.
1. Chapter 1

**Another fic from the pre-Will days in series three with me basically thinking about what** ** _could_** **have happened... This one deals a lot with Jemma's PTSD storyline thing and has some blood in it. Title is from twenty one pilots and shout out if you can find the Doctor Who and Firefly reference. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Trigger: blood, PTSD and panic attacks.**

She needed it. She needed it. She needed it.

Where was it? Where was it? Where was it?

It was under her pillow, it had been since she returned, she didn't sleep without it, couldn't sleep without it. She had had it since she was trapped there. It had been her one constant. Her one single constant besides...

Fitz. Fitz had been there. She liked Fitz. She liked him a lot.

"Jemma?"

She looked up from her bed, a wild look in her eyes. He had it.

He was holding.

She tried to reach for it, stumbling across the room but he held it out of reach.

There was something about his eyes. Something that made her feel sad.

"What?" was the only word that he could say.

Her breathing was laboured, she felt an attack coming on. She was getting used to the warning signs, as was everyone else. That made Bobbi proud (and Fitz).

He noticed her breathing, how it was becoming laboured, heavy, like she was about to start screaming again.

She was looking at the piece of wood in his hand and he noticed that. Fitz was good like that. He noticed things like that.

"Jemma," he said, wanting to reach out but not wanting to scare her, startle her. "It's dangerous."

She shook her head. It wasn't dangerous. It protected her from the _dangerous_.

She reached for it again. She hated that this made her feel like a child but everything scared her, everyone scared her.

Except Fitz.

Fitz who had saved her.

Fitz who was there for her during her darkest night. Her darkest days.

Everything blurred into one. She didn't know any more.

Everything hurt.

"Jemma! Jems!"

His voice, in her hear. His hand, on her shoulder.

She flinched. There was a dampness to her face, wet and sticky.

Footsteps retreating.

Darkness.

The next time she awoke, terrified from nightmares, there was so much (too much) to take in at once. Everyone though that the plain white walls of a medical room where to be reassuring, comforting, peaceful.

They weren't.

They were the opposite.

Annoying.

Painful.

Deafening.

An IV was in her arm, providing her with fluids and there was a presence beside her. Fitz.

She wanted to call to him. But she couldn't speak. Didn't want to. It might find her. Might kill her.

Might kill him.

She didn't want that. She had hurt him enough for one life time.

Maybe even two,

"You collapsed again," he said, giving her a sad smile. She hated that.

She wanted a happy smile. Like when he had rescued her. That had made her feel safe.

Being in his arms.

There was something in her hand, something she hadn't noticed.

Her stick.

She let out a breath, one she didn't know she had been holding.

It was there.

She could keep him safe.

She turned it over and over in her hand, realising that it used to be good, but it wasn't any more. She couldn't protect Fitz with a stick, as sharp as it may be. She needed something sharper.

Something twice as dangerous as the beast hunting them.

She needed something that could hurt.

It was Skye (Daisy) that first discovered her, rummaging in the kitchen. Searching through the drawers, looking for the weapon, looking for the blade.

"Jemma?"

The voice was anxious, but not as anxious as Jemma was. She needed this. She needed this to protect Fitz. She couldn't let him be hurt, be killed.

"Jemma!" This time Daisy (Skye) was louder, more angry. She wanted Jemma to stop, but she couldn't. Not until Fitz was safe.

She reached for Jemma, trying to pull her arm away from the cabinet. But Skye (Daisy) knew that she shouldn't do this. She had been told by Bobbi that this was bad. That this scared Jemma.

Jemma screamed, a natural reflex with anyone touching her, or even getting too close.

The scream alerted Mack and Bobbi who had been in the next room.

"Shit," Bobbi muttered under her breath, watching Daisy try to wrestle a knife of Jemma.

Mack was across the room before Bobbi could stop him, advancing towards an armed and extremely volatile Jemma.

Jemma spun, instinct, after being trapped for so long. The knife caught Mack's chest and she heard a cry of pain, not realising it was a team mate, a friend who she'd hurt.

She was back on that planet and the whole world was spinning.

And turning black.

Again.

She woke to more arguing.

Coulson.

Fitz.

"She hurt him, she needs time off!" That was Coulson. She has never heard him this angry.

Would he hurt Fitz? Would she have to protect Fitz from him as well?

"They cornered her! She was frightened. She didn't mean to."

Coulson gave a heavy sigh. "How's she acting with Andrew?"

Silence.

Then whispers.

"She's still not speaking. The last time she spoke," Fitz paused. She hadn't spoke. Yet. But she wanted to. She needed to know that he was safe. "Was when we were in the..." He didn't need to finish. Coulson knew what he meant. That was good. He wasn't going to hurt Fitz. Fitz was safe.

The door opened and she turned to face whoever was entering, reaching under the pillow as part of her morning routine. Would they take it off her?

Surprisingly they hadn't.

Fitz must have guessed the danger, explained and they let her keep it.

She was the only one who truly understood the danger, who would be able to protect them. She pulled it to her side, spinning it.

"He's okay," Fitz said, gently moving his hand to stroke her hair. She let him do this, didn't flinch.

Fitz was the only thing that made this feel real. Made her feel that this wasn't a nightmare.

But they were still in danger, no matter how real this was.

She had to protect him.

She was sitting in her room, her head on Fitz's lap. She refused to sleep otherwise. She had to be near him. Any other time she had slept without him had been a drug induced sleep. One she hadn't been prepared for. What if she slept too long?

She could be responsible for so much death.

He was stroking her hair. It was getting some life back. Life returns. Life prevails.

"I'm scared."

He paused for a second, taken back by her speaking.

"It's gonna hurt you."

"No," he reassured. "You're safe."

She shook her head. She wasn't. She would never be safe.

Whether from the beast or her own inner demons. She would never be free.

"What if..." she began, not knowing how to continue. She sat up, resting her head on his shoulder and burrowing into him. She still hadn't gained much weigh. She was still light, too light.

She still managed to fit perfectly next to him. They were made for each other.

"Fear. That's all there was."

Fitz wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer even though this wasn't possible. But he still tried.

"Hunted. That's what they did to me. I didn't think..." she couldn't continue. Sobs escaped her. Sobs that were mournful. Sobs that she had kept in for so long. Sobs that she couldn't contain any more.

"Jems" Fitz said, placing a kiss to the top of her forehead. "Whatever comes next, whatever happens, I'll be here."

Her eyes closed as she allowed his words to wash over head, making her feel at ease, at peace. Even if it were only momentary, Fitz would be there with her. He would be there the whole damn time.

And if it were a beast hell-bent on killing her, he would help her fight it. Help her defeat it.

And if it were her own inner demons she was fighting, he would help her fight them. Help free her from them.

Even if that took months, years or decades.

He would be there the whole time.

Because he loved her.

And in all the time she had known him, she had fallen for him. And she had only discovered that recently.

Something she had almost lost. Him. Her chance to tell him how she really felt. But now she did.

But now she was with him.

She had an eternity, possibly more (if that were possible) with him.

"I love you."

And she wasn't going to waste a single second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part two is up! And this time from Fitz's perspective. Hope you enjoy this one. Imagine Dragons reference hidden in here!**

It had rolled out, clattering on the ground while she had been asleep. He was surprised that it hadn't woken her up. Maybe she was just too exhausted to notice it. The past six months finally taking their toll on her.

He picked it up, looking at it when his phone flashed. He had turned it off, not wanting to upset her. Bobbi, checking up on Jemma.

He quickly typed an answer, saying that she was still asleep, before putting the thing back down when he heard a desperate scrambling on the bed.

"Jemma?"

She was throwing the duvet and pillows about, looking for something. Then she turned to look at him, a wild look in her eye. She removed herself from the bed, stumbling across the room to reach him.

Reaching for the little stake of wood. When her eyes met his, a look of sadness flashed across her face.

"What?" was the only word that he could say.

Her breathing became laboured. A panic attack. He knew he had to be careful here, not wanting to set her off into a full blown panic attack.

"Jemma." He reached out with his opposite hand, gently. Like you would so as not too spook an animal. "It's dangerous."

Her eyes were still on the stake. He wasn't sure how she managed to keep it hidden. How she still had it. _Why_ she still had it. Maybe it made her feel safe. Maybe she had gotten so used to it the past six months, that she couldn't be apart from it yet.

She reached for it again.

She collapsed.

"Jemma! Jems!" His voice was full of fear as she fell on the ground, the side of her face making contact with the concrete floor.

It was bleeding, and he was now knelt down beside her. His hand on her shoulder.

He gently scooped her up and carried her back down to the Med Bay.

"You collapsed again," was what he first said to her when she woke up, trying to smile at her. Trying to give her the reassurance that she needed.

She looked down at her hand, at the stake that was in it. He had placed it there while she was asleep, regretting taking it off her in the first place.

He should have known that she would need it.

Would need it for sometime.

She let out a breath.

It was her scream that had alerted him that something was wrong. It was her scream that sent shivers down his spine and turned hi blood to ice.

"Shit." Bobbi's voice caused him to quicken his pace to the kitchen, oxygen burning his lungs. He didn't think that there would ever come a day that he hated the feeling of oxygen in his lungs. But he did now, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind when he entered the kitchen.

Jemma, curled up on herself, lying on the ground, a blade close by.

Bobbi, standing with a syringe, arm hanging limp by her side.

Daisy, kneeling on the ground with bloodied kitchen paper.

Mack, sitting on a wooden chair, his shirt, ripped. His chest, bleeding.

"What..." was all that could escape his mouth as he knelt beside her, thinking back to the previous day.

"It's my fault." Daisy's voice was trembling. "She was looking for a knife, I tried to wrestle it from her but... I shouldn't have did that. I wasn't thinking. She screamed. That's when Mack and Bobbi..."

"I confronted her. Sorry, Turbo. We all weren't thinking. She spun, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm fine. Stitches will fix this."

"I had to Fitz," Bobbi said, the syringe falling to the ground with a clatter.

Fitz had no words. How could he after what had just happened. So much had just happened.

And in that moment, he vowed that he would never leave her again.

"It was an accident! Even Mack says so!" Fitz shouted at Coulson, knowing that he should lower his voice, and let her sleep.

"She hurt him, she needs time off!" Coulson argued back.

Fitz gave a groan of frustration, running his hands through his hair, before letting one rest on the back of his neck. "They cornered her! She was frightened. She didn't mean to."

A heavy sigh escaped the director. "How's she acting with Andrew?"

Fitz didn't want to answer that, letting silence fill the space between the two of them.

Coulson raised an eyebrow, prompting him to answer.

When he did, his voice was small. "She's still not speaking. The last time she spoke..." Fitz didn't need to continue. "Was when we were in the..." Coulson knew what he was going to say.

Fitz turned on his heel, not wanting to be part of this conversation any more. He opened the door, entering the room where Jemma lay awake, finding her reaching under her pillow.

"He's okay," Fitz said, once he was sure that Jemma felt safe, or as safe as she could feel.

He reached over, stroking her hair. She didn't flinch.

"I'm scared."

He paused when he heard those two words, before resuming stroking her hair.

"It's gonna hurt you."

He didn't know what it was, but he shook his head. "No," he reassured. "You're safe."

She shook her head this time.

"What if?" she began asking, sitting up, burrowing her head into his shoulder. He noticed then just how light she was, too light. But how they still managed to fit perfectly together.

"Fear. That's all there was."

After that statement, Fitz wrapped his arm around her, drawing her in closer, even though that wasn't possible. But that didn't stop him from trying.

"Hunted. That's all they did to me. I didn't think..." She stopped there, unable to continue. She was crying now, sobs escaping from her. Sobs that she had kept to herself for so long. They were mournful, and painful for him to listen to.

"Jems." He placed a kiss on her forehead, a silent promise that he would always protect her.

Always keep her safe.

"Whatever comes next, what ever happens, I'll be here."

She closed her eyes.

He would help her fight her own internal demons, help her get through this, the mist of darkness in her head.

"I love you."

 **Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
